


Ashes

by IStillPlayWithLegos



Series: Short Drabbles by IStillPlayWithLegos [12]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Burns, Canonical Character Death, Changing Tenses, Connie draws in his free time, Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Mild Injury, No Romance, Sad, Short One Shot, Spoilers for S4, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IStillPlayWithLegos/pseuds/IStillPlayWithLegos
Summary: They’re all living on borrowed time—At least that’s how Connie sees it. Memories are fleeting, but drawings, those live on forever.
Relationships: Sasha Blouse & Connie Springer
Series: Short Drabbles by IStillPlayWithLegos [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915618
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Idk where this came from but the idea refused to leave my head and I wrote this in like 40 min. So here, have Connie as an artist in his free time. (Also, if you haven't read the tags please go back and note the ones for S4 spoilers and heavy angst)

They’re all living on borrowed time—At least that’s how Connie sees it. Memories are fleeting, but drawings, those live on forever.

It’s his mother who first teaches him how to put charcoal to paper; How to capture the very essence of a person in quick strokes. She teaches him to make his own charcoal and to use it in a way that can only be described as magical to an onlooker.

He starts with the flowers. Sketching the way they rustle in the wind and capturing the motion. Then he moves on to the animals. He sits in the barn for hours every day, drawing the horses. How they move, eat, interact with each other. He watches birds flit through the air, and he draws them too.

The village begins to talk, and word spreads quickly of his talents. People knock on his family’s door, asking for a drawing of themselves or a loved one. He says no to every single one and stops drawing in public. His art is meant for him, a way to express himself. He doesn’t do it for praise and attention. It’s not meant for the eyes of others.

He tells himself that for years. Then, at thirteen, he meets Sasha. 

She’s his other half. His soulmate. Someone who understands him at his very core, and he is eternally grateful to have met her. They go through everything together. 

_ They steal food together. They joke. They train. _

And eventually, Connie shows her the pages covered in charcoal he has collected over the years. She spends hours upon hours watching him sketch, asking him questions and begging him to draw her. He does. 

By the time they finish their military training, his best friend’s face takes up the vast majority of his artwork. He couldn’t imagine it otherwise. A life without Sasha by his side would be a boring one, indeed. So, they live.

_ They live. They fight. They survive—And then they don’t. _

Sasha is stolen from him in the blink of an eye, and a part of him dies with her. 

In the end, Connie burns them, impulsively tossing every paper into the flames. They catch easily, the fire ripping through the loose pages. His fingertips cry out in pain from how close he gets to the heat. They blister and burn, but he doesn’t care. He needs them gone. 

His eyes burn too, and not just from the smoke. 

Later, Jean will scream at him until he’s blue in the face, and Connie will stare blankly at the wall behind him. When the emotions settle, they’ll sit together in silence as Jean wraps his burnt fingers. It’ll be messy, but it’ll do. Neither one of them will mention that Sasha would have done a better job. 

He will bury the ashes with Sasha, the only other person with whom he shared his art, and he  _ breathes _ —Knowing they will live on with her, wherever she is.

When Connie dies, there won’t be a single person left alive who knows the way he makes still images come to life, and he is content knowing that. 

_ He lives. He fights. But he never picks up another piece of charcoal.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry... I had to get the idea out. Leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed it and thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day!


End file.
